.Last weekend Accies sent a sevens rugby team to Tours
France and I am pleased to say that they walked away with the trophy. I
asked Graham Forbes who organised the tour to write a report and send a
photo or two and I have attached them to this email. You may want to
edit the report to reduce its length and adjust its content - I will
leave that up to your discretion.

Regards
Simon Cadwallader
Glasgow Accies Social Secretary


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Tour to Tours Two - Les Champignons Du Monde

It was nearly the tour that never was. Thanks to those "low cost"
champions (low cost, my a####), Ryanair, landing 45 mins behind schedule
from Prestwick, we were too late to make that budget carrier (budget, my
arse), Ryanair's, connecting flight from Stansted to Tours. Low cost
for the initial purchase, but a Wembley type budget for every minor
change or alteration thereafter! The only option was to head for the
bar.

With the other alternatives being to fly out the next day or go home, a
quickly convened Tour Committee decided to fly to Poitiers instead and
then travel on to Tours by train. A fleet of taxis (well two) got us
from Poitiers airport to the station in good time for the train to
Tours. Only that train, and the next, were full! The only option was
to find a bar.

The troops were nervous. Despite an early start, the Stansted stand-off
had extended and complicated our travel arrangements by about 8 hours.
Okay we had beer now, but our lack of French meant that no-one was sure
what the hell had just been ordered. (The French will eat anything and
everything with a pulse.) It was a very relieved tour party that was
able to tuck into a plate of well-done steak (well done, my arse) and
chips.

On arrival at Tours, we were met by our hosts - Inis Cara Rugby Club -
who took us in a fleet of cars (more than two) to their coach's house
(Chez Julien) where the team was billeted in tents pitched in his back
garden. It had been a long first day, so the only option was to find a
bar.

Waking up on Saturday morning, Day 2, proved a lot easier than actually
getting up. A number of tourists were experiencing an almost spiritual
disembodiment, while others could only wish they were in another body.
These were alien feelings for this hand-picked party of honed athletes
and the only option was to find a bar and breakfast.

Our French coordinator had promised rain and cool weather (rain and cool
weather, my arse). It was a fairly typical hot, early summers day with
Factor 40 struggling to cope with the sun's rays. Our warm-up was
mainly about finding somewhere to keep cool. The first place we laid
out our kit was infested with crawlies, so the only option was a shady
spot behind the bar.

In keeping with the low-key Accies approach to competitive rugby, we
warmed up proper with a trip to the BBQ so as not to offend our hosts.
After all the travel, booze, food and sunshine, it was becoming
increasingly clear to us that our hosts were feeling threatened. Their
expectations of playing a typically under-prepared, under-powered
Scottish rugby team was being challenged by the site of these Celtic
Spartans.

The Joseph Durand Tournoir was being played in memory of a Tours fireman
and Inis Cara rugby player who had died in a car crash. It was a sevens
tournament with eight teams divided into two pools of four. The pool
games and semi-final were played on a half-pitch, with the final on a
full pitch. Kicking was not allowed (although that did not stop us
trying once or twice). Representation included local clubs and a side
from the Paris Fire Brigade where Joseph Durand had served.

Our pre-tournament practice session involved separating backs and
forwards and going through some line-outs and moves. We very quickly
realised that this approach works poorly with only one ball, so the
forwards continued to practice line-outs while the backs kinda ran
around a bit and stretched and whatever. Despite a truly chilling
series of attempts at a sevens lineout, we managed to kid ourselves we
were ready and headed for the bar.

A tight victory in the second game was when we realised that just
because we won our first, it did not mean we had suddenly become Gods.
The third game was when we realised that we could actually play some
decent rugby. However, the thought of playing on a full pitch had
nurtured the idea that going out in the fourth game (the semi) might be
no bad thing. With that thought, we headed for the bar.

Despite these negative thoughts and opposition teams constantly buying
us beer, we played well in our fifth and final game against a determined
and resourceful foe. While reflection would suggest the result of the
Final was never in doubt, the game took all our efforts and resources to
win. Glasgow Accies - Champions!

The Saturday night was a blur of post-match euphoria, celebration,
trophy presentations and national anthems. The Saturday night was also
the final of the French end-of-season Top 14 play-offs between Stade
Francais and ASM Clermont Auvergne. So the competing teams and their
hingers-on all settled down to watch the game on the "big screen" while
another sizeable portion of France's livestock took its place on the
BBQ.

On our way home after the tournoi, we started chanting Championies which
quickly evolved into Champignons - the French for mushroooms. Our
French hosts were especially amused as we announced ourselves as
"mushrooms of the world". We thought we were hilarious!

Everyone was up bright and early on Sunday morning....yeah right!
However, with true Accies grit we hauled our sorry butts down to a
rendezvous at the bar. In the pre-tour planning we had asked our hosts
if they could organise an activity for the Sunday afternoon. Spending
time in another bar was just not an option. So we headed for a
vineyard, where we BBQ'd another meat mountain.

Our last night at Chez Julien was spent BBQing what was left of the
animal kingdom, before settling down to some light-hearted truth or
dare. After the first blood injury, dares were dropped and the game
morphed into truth or question. We rapidly dropped the truth bit and
the game finished off as a light-hearted Inquisition. Our hosts had
left us with beer, wine, absinthe and pastis, so we did not need to go
to the bar.

To sweat out the weekend's excesses, flush out our limb's lactic acid
and ease muscles prior to travel, we had a lie-in. Inter-tent banter
and extensive use of the outdoor WC (ie bush or wall depending which
side of the gaden you were on) passed the time till departure. The
return flight was uneventful and the bar was not an option.

Thanks go to our hosts who were, simply, awesome.

Thanks also to Mr T and the Chauvinist for assisting in planning and
organisation; to Ieuan who used all his sartorial experience to source
some fetching kit; to Gav Dav for coining the term Champignons; to Mr
Brown for never failing to shock; to the Gimp for making the scorelines
look good; to the Lone Legionnaire who stepped in when Big Sigh was hors
de combat; to Junior for running himself into cramp and blisters; and to
Mr Mr for leaving some beer for the rest of us.

For further details, information or offers of playing contracts, contact
the legends below:
Graeme "El Toro" Forbes
Dave "Mr T" Tait
Gavin "Gav Dav" Davis
Michael "Mr Mr" Henry
Richard "Mr Brown" Lloyd
Ian "Ieuan" Owen
Mike "The Gimp" Hermes
Fraser "Junior" Cameron
Jerome "Chauvinist" Chauvin
Greg "Legionnaire" Saispas

This article was originally posted on 13-Jun-2007, 13:03 by Hugh Barrow.
Last updated by Hugh Barrow on 13-Jun-2007, 13:05.